In the River of my Tears
by MesdemoisellesLeeHongKi
Summary: Alfred has a big boner during the conference meeting and it results in angst.
1. Prologue

**A.N. First thing you must know before reading this fic is that this is a parody of the angst genre. Doesn't only include England and America but the whole FACE family. Poland won't be talking all the time. Now, go and enjoy your reading!**

**Also, we don't really own Hetalia. Not really.**

**Prologue**

"So, like, I heard that, like, you totally won't believe it, like, oh my God! Okay, so this is like what I heard. So, like, America had this huge boner during the like G8 meeting. So he was totally staring at England, like, staring. I think he was like so turned on by England being like totally British. And then, you won't guess what totally happened next!"

Poland suddenly stopped talking and looked at his nails in horror.

"Like oh my God! I totally broke a nail! Look at it!"

He then shoved his hand in South Korea's face to show him his hurt member. The Korean rolled his eyes and asked him to continue his tale of sorrows.

"Oh what were we like talking about again? Oh yeah, so, America started, like, crying! Like, he was, screaming about like how Arthur totally hated him and, like, how he couldn't care less about his, like, really huge boner. I mean, even Russia, like, was scared by the sheer size of the boner. He kept, like, grabbing his pipe, not like sexually, but his actual metal pipe, you know? He was like totally protecting himself with it."

"I would be scared too. Alfred is always so cocky." The Korean said before laughing at his own joke. Poland ignored him like the glamourous bitch he was.

"Anyway, then France, like, totally honhonhoned. It was like so creepy apparently. He tried to like help America, you know? _You know?_ But then, like, apparently, England got so pissed off and he, like, punched him in the face and he like totally stormed out. Then Germany got like totally pissed off then like started screaming about how, like, everything was ruined and all, you know? Then, Italy, like, started crying and started talking about wanting to like go home and like eating pasta and like, he mentioned this like Holy Roman Empire guy. Then Germany like got all tense but I like don't know why. Maybe he's like jealous? Like O.M.G! No way! This guys has like feelings? Anyway, America. Like. Totally. And yah. That's what happened."

"...What did America do?" Inquired a very excited South Korea.

"Oh, well he like was totally sad and stuff. He was like sitting there, totally crying his eyes out. He was like saying that he was like "Still the hero!" But no one believe him apparently. And like this random guy like handed him a hamburger and tried like comforting him. Nobody like knew who it was. Then the kid screamed like "I'm Canada" and like, again, nobody cared. It was like this huge nobody cared fest, dude. Then, the kid like ran off like crying but nobody like noticed. Except my source. Pony. You like know him right? Like, pony. My little pony..."

Poland then left, still singing the "My little pony" song. Since we didn't know the rest of the lyrics we had to stop his monolog there. South Korea, finally alone, turned towards the camera and said:

"Drama originated in Korea you know?"


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

England was drinking in a bar. He was way past drunk by then. As usual, he started reminiscing about his past. About the time he was still a strong and proud Empire. When he was still America's father. They were so happy together. Why did the brat have to ruin their quiet family life by wanting to be independent. He sacrificed so much to raise him.

"I sacrificed so much!" He screamed while lunging at an unsuspecting chair and tried to strangle it. "Alfred, why did you do this? To me? To ME?"

The door opened, revealing an American who was laughing obnoxiously. Then he saw England and started bawling. Then he stopped and approached the fallen man who was now snuggling the chair that he had named Alfred. He was apologizing to it.

"Hey dude! Whatcha doin? Oh, hey Alfred!" He said the last part to the chair. They had met before in a similar situation.

"Why did you leave me, hic," the man sounded as drunk as he acted. "Cruel, cruel world! I can't stop hic-ing! England turned away from the chair and noticed that Alfred-the-human/nation person was there. _No! Alfred can't see me like this. He has seen me down before...I cannot let it happen again,_ the drunken dude thought.

Ashamed of his behaviour, England tried, and I mean tried, running off but fell on the ground, unconscious. He had tripped over Alfred-the-chair. Canada, who was unnoticed again eh, was relieved that England was no longer sitting on him and had stopped crying. _I'm so tired of being invisible all the time. Or mistaken as Alfred. It's the worst when England is drunk and starts yelling at me for abandoning him with "that horrible half-french bastard". All I ever wanted was his love,_ thought Canada as he watched Alfred put a hamburger on Arthur's forehead.

"I need Francis! He's the only one who can make me feel loved," exclaimed Canada as he ran towards the exit, crying.

Alfred's Canadar (that's Canada + radar for dummies) started acting up at his brother's words.

"Mattie! Wait! He's gonna take advantage of your low self-esteem and current distress!"

"Like totally," added Poland, who was gossiping with Lithuania.

"I read it all in that _Psychology for Dummies_ book you gave me for X-mas so I could read the atmosphere better." Continued the American. "And I still haven't found that book! Wait up!" Alfred ran after his brother, forgetting about the unconscious England and stepping on him as he made his way out.

"The git didn't say sorry! What an ungrateful twat!" Exclaimed the now conscious Arthur.

* * *

><p>Prussia was staring at Francis, confused.<p>

"Why did you want me wear those glasses anyway?"

To anyone who is still confused by what is going on, they just had sex. Francis, for some reason, decided that Gilbert would look even hotter with rounded glasses. It had no relation with the fact that he had seen his friend drinking a full bottle of maple syrup a few seconds before the _act. _

France had felt the need to jump on his friend and started undressing him in the middle of the pet shop. Spain had dragged them there earlier to show them some nice (and mean) turtles.

"They kind of look like Matthew's glasses," said a perplexed albino man, still thinking about the spectacles.

"I don't know what you mean," dryly said the Frenchman before snatching back the glasses.

"Well, the awesome me has to leave. I have a drinking contest with my unawesome bro. I hope you enjoyed my five meters."

"_Oui-ou_i, _aurevoir_." France waved his friend away. Gilbert then left, taking Antonio (he was still there, distracted by the cute little turtles; he even named one Romano) with him. He was a little bitter at the fact that he was so easily disposed of.

He sighed when he realized that, once again, he was alone and returned to his hotel room. He didn't cry (he wasn't Alfred) but he took a glass of red wine and he _didn't_ enjoy it. It was a sure sign of his imminent depression.

"There iz zis void inside mee zat I have to fill and zese mindless fucks do not make mee feel complete or quench my desire_ pour de l'attachement émotionnel_," he said to no one in particular.

It was then that a sweaty Canada jumped right through the window, just like his _papa _taught him to. The best thing was that he was crying.


	3. Chapter 2

**A.N.: We do not condone leaving your windows opened. **

**Chapter 2**

-The morning after-

Alfred was dragging a hungover Arthur over his shoulder while searching the streets for his brother.

"Mattie! Mattie where are you? Please be visible again!" he exclaimed loudly, making Arthur groan in pain.

"Must you be so loud, you insufferable prick?" retorted the Englishman, covering his ears. His day hadn't started well. He had been nearly squished to death after his fall in the bar earlier. He wasn't dead because America came back, hours later when the bar was closing, finally deciding to be his hero, and pulled him out of the bar screaming nonsense about cherries. That was four hours ago. They hadn't even stopped for coffee, not even at McDonalds. Alfred was serious about finding his brother. _If only he was this serious about me…_

"We need to split up," decided the American, seemingly not having heard Arthur. He seemed deep in thought, but Arthur knew that it was only a façade. Alfred didn't think about anything. It was one of his most annoying traits.

Suddenly, Arthur felt his body rising in the air. "Alfred! What are you doing? Put me down!" he screeched.

Once again, Alfred ignored him. Instead he said : "You'll go look for Mattie that way, and I'll look for him this way, okay?"

Arthur opened his mouth to replied that no, it was not okay, when the git _threw _him in the air like he was nothing more than a rag doll. He closed his eyes, expecting a rough landing, but was surprised to find himself on a bed. On an _occupied_ bed. He was even more surprised when he was brought into a sloppy kiss by the person next to him. He opened his eyes in shock and shut them again at the sight of the other's face.

"You were much better last night. You're not doing anything, what's wrong?" asked a sleepy Canada. His eyes widened when he saw the characteristic eyebrows. "Oh my God, England! I'm so sorry. I thought you were…" He looked around the room in confusion. "Where...?"

"Ha ha! The hero's here!" shouted Alfred as he jumped through the opened window. Arthur had never been so confused.

"Francis? Francis?" called Matthew.

"What are you calling Francis for?" stupidly asked England.

"He left right? I TOLD YOU SO! Ha! I was right! Hey, I'm hungry all of a sudden, let's go eat! I'm sure there's a McDonalds not too far away."

"He…left?" Matthew's eyes quickly filled with heavy tears. He felt so used and abandoned. Couldn't he have one person who would be there for him, stick with him? Why did people he cared about always leave?

Arthur had finally caught on. He never expected his old colony to fall for the frog's dirty tricks. But he was more upset that Matthew still cared more about France than him, even after the bastard abandoned him years ago. _Maybe I should pay more attention to him. It might also bring me closer to Alfred… _

Alfred finally noticed that his brother was sincerely upset and that France's actions had hurt him…again.

_Flashback_

"_Papa! Papa! Ne m'abandonne pas!" __Desperately screamed a much younger Matthew. He muttered his next words, almost like a plea. "S'il-te-plait." _

_But France remained indifferent as he turned around and walked away, leaving the crying child in his enemy's arms._

_End of flashback_

Alfred was suddenly filled with rage. How dare this dude defile his bro that way? Stupid French pervert! He'll destroy him!

"I will destroy him! I'll nuke him till there isn't anything left! We don't need France anyway!"

"Alfred, you can't just nuke people you don't like…You have to use magic! It'll make him suffer even more!" intervened Arthur, who wasn't as hungover as before.

"Guys…don't bother." Matthew sounded so broken that Alfred's heart started to cry manly tears of manliness.

"Okay, we won't do anything. Why don't you take a shower for now though? You reek of sex," suggested the Englishman. Matthew silently obeyed, too troubled to question him.

As soon as the water started running, Alfred turned to his secret crush and roughly whispered: "You weren't serious when you said we wouldn't do anything, right?"

"Of course not."

"What do we do? We totally need to be Mattie's heroes and stuff."

"Yes, the frog needs to learn that he can't just play around with people's feelings," replied Arthur, already having an idea in mind. "And what better way to make him understand this than to make him go through it?"

"What do you mean?" asked Alfred, slightly distracted by a fly lurking around in the room.

"Well, I know this spell that will make him fall in love with the person of our choice. Preferably someone who will never reciprocate his love."

"Like who? Germany?" asked Alfred, laughing.

"No, they have too much history… Things would get complicated. And dangerous. I was thinking more about a certain angry Italian."

"When is Feliciano ever angry?"

"I'm talking about his brother, you idiot."

"Oh. So what do we have to do?"

"Well I can work on the spell, and you can just watch. With your eyes this time, not your hands. And please," he added in a serious voice, "don't yell."

* * *

><p>In the shower of the hotel room, Matthew had a lot of time to reflect upon the past events. Once again, he had dared to open his heart a little…only to see it crushed to pieces by the man he trusted. He couldn't deal with his feelings anymore.<p>

Without thinking about it, he turned the water temperature to boiling. Anything to lessen the pain in his heart.

_I will never let my feelings overcome me ever again_, he decided.

It was then that Kumajiro made his presence known. He was in the shower too and didn't enjoy the hot water as much as his master seemed to. "Who?" he uttered, sensing a change in his caretaker's mood.

"Canada…without feelings."

The new Canada got out of the shower, slowly drying himself up and realized he had left his clothes in a pile beside the bed. Fortunately there was an unused bathrobe in the room. That's when he heard a dramatic "Mambo Italiano!" from the other side of the door, followed by a crashing sound. He rushed out of the bathroom, only to be greeted by a strange sight.

"Hi Russia."

"Hello Matvey."

Yes, as you have guessed, Russia had been summoned by the spell and was now occupying the bed, beside Arthur and a confused Alfred.

The spell had been a complete failure…or had it?

* * *

><p>France was once again in a pet shop with Spain and Prussia. After his hasty departure that morning – the thought of the event brought him painful guilt – he had run into them and had decided to tag along in order to forget his own crushing solitude.<p>

Surprisingly, Romano was already at the pet shop, _not _watching the turtles. Spain beamed at him and showed the turtle he had baptized Romano. He then made the mistake of showing him the one he had named Feliciano. Turtle Feliciano was cuter than turtle Romano.

The Italian boy silently raged against his…whatever this guy was to him.

But France took no notice of this as he was reminiscing about his sudden decision of leaving Mathieu earlier that morning. It's not that he didn't love the boy, on the contrary, it's just that…Mathieu deserved so much more than a man of his lifestyle, a man who, after so many years, didn't really believe in formal relationships. He knew that he could never give Mathieu what he wanted, a stable and long-lasting relationship. France could not commit in that way. Mathieu was too important. And Romano's legs looked so delicious right now.


End file.
